


Not just a Hug

by AnitaB



Series: Duped [2]
Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnitaB/pseuds/AnitaB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I guess you could call this the sequel to “Not their first kiss”… but really I just got stuck in Myka’s head while Myka was stuck in the mirror.  She had quite a bit of time in there to do some serious thinking.  I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth getting in a lawsuit.  Pete/Myka pre-ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not just a Hug

Title: Not just a Hug  
Author: AnitaB  
Author’s note: I guess you could call this the sequel to “Not their first kiss”… but really I just got stuck in Myka’s head while Myka was stuck in the mirror. She had quite a bit of time in there to do some serious thinking. I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth getting in a lawsuit. Pete/Myka pre-ship. 

Not just a Hug

By AnitaB

It didn’t escape her notice that she kept ending up in his arms. They’d been partners a fairly short length of time, but Myka had gotten Pete’s arms around her in about half their cases, maybe more. Not just hugs either. His hand would rest against her back or her arm as they spoke to Artie on the Farnsworth. Explosions sometimes literally threw her at him, sending them flying into a crumpled tangle of limbs on the ground. Hell, she even given him mouth to mouth resuscitation and he’d touched or bandaged various wounds on her before too.

But the weird thing was the hugs. Partners she’d had before had patched up the scrapes, dabbed hankies at the blood on her skin or even lifted her to her feet holding both her hands. But never in her entire career as an agent had Myka Bering been hugged so much by a partner, by anyone really. And even weirder than that, somehow it was always her doing the hugging. 

Pete seemed to orbit just inside the outer edges of her personal space, waiting. Stress or pressure would build. And then she’d just up and fling herself into his arms, bury herself against his strong chest, and cling to his broad shoulders. Pete would then wrap his arms around her, big hands flat against her back, chin or cheek buried in her hair. Warm, strong, gentle, loyal and … always just outside that little bubble of isolation Myka held onto so tightly. Waiting patiently for her to come out to him. 

And he was always there to catch her, waiting with open arms for that flying leap of faith. 

After what felt like forever in the black nothingness inside Alice’s mirror, it was all Myka could think about. Pete, out there with a psychopathic murderer wearing her face. Pete trusted her, without thought, without hesitation, even when the artifact of the week had her hitting him in the face every five minutes. Alice could get close enough to Pete to do anything she wanted to him, she could even shoot or stab him. That face would get her inside his every wall, alarm system or warning light. Alice could hurt him or kill him because he would never hurt Myka. Alice was going to hurt her Pete because of her. 

He was out there, in danger from the one person he trusted most in the world. And she was stuck here in this god forsaken mirror, staring at the backside of a drop cloth ‘cause Artie thought the real Myka was out there and the one in here was Alice. But even staring and yelling at the cloth was better than what was behind her, below her, and all around her. Myka was in hell and Pete was in danger. 

The second she got the hell out of this mirror, Myka was gonna hug Pete so hard. She was going to wrap herself in the warmth and strength of his arms so tight that this empty feeling would go away. She was going to search every inch of his body for injuries and make Alice pay for even a scratch. 

Step one in the hug Pete plan was convincing Artie. Claudia already believed her and the one person who could really tell the difference was hundreds of miles away. 

When the chance came, Myka fought to throw aside her normal defensive shields and just talk to Artie, to rip open her protective walls and tell him the truth, all of it. And there on Artie’s face… he believed her. When he reached out and flattened one hand against the glass, Myka nearly burst into tears and pressed her hand against the outline of his. He could do this. Artie would figure out how to get her the hell out of this mirror and together they’d save Pete from Alice. 

They’d called Alice on the Farnsworth to prove it wasn’t the real Myka. It’d had taken her a bit of thought to come up with something Alice wouldn’t know. And yeah, she’d named the ferret after Pete. It seemed to read her moods almost as well as the original. And it was just as cute and just as annoying as the man himself.

Step two was planning the attack. They had to warn Pete about fake-Myka. Before she slipped a knife between his ribs or put a gun to his head. 

If she wasn’t still trapped in the mirror, Myka could have kissed Claudia for the courtesy phone idea. Then things moved quickly. It wasn’t as bad when they had to cover the mirror this time. It wouldn’t be long now, alone in the dark. Then Pete and Artie would get her the hell out of here. 

Step three was trapping Alice. They had to get Alice back to the mirror, activate the Studio 54 disco ball, and boom… make the switch. All without the ‘see the future’ gambling chip showing the little psycho the plan. 

The drop cloth was pulled aside and the first thought through Myka’s head was cut short at the sight of her outfit. Alice had worn that tight, little black dress that fit completely under her coat around Pete. Myka’s lips were painted a sexy red and her feet were wearing at least four inch heels. Her hair was loose and wild. And in Alice’s hand was the hammer. 

Myka could hear herself scream Pete’s name, but nobody else could. He was there anyway, hitting Alice with ping-pong balls as Artie sent up the signal flare for Claudia and Lena. A breathless moment or two later the lights and music started up and Myka pressed closer to the glass. The disco ball worked on desires. //I want out, I want out, I want out, I want out. I need to go to Pete. Please get me out of here.\\\ 

The blackness around her seemed to dissolve. Under her feet she could see the warehouse floor. A glance to either side showed the shelves and artifacts. Lifting her head, Myka felt her throat close at the look on Pete’s face and the little wave he gave her. //Pete,\\\ 

The only reason she didn’t run to him was that he was close enough to reach him in a few steps. He caught her, just like always. Strong arms pulled her tight against his ribs, hands flattened on her back and she could feel his ragged breathing through the shoulder of her shirt. She was home, safe, and in Pete’s arms again. Warm, strong, and always right there for her. //Pete,\\\ If Myka stayed here even a few extra seconds, she might not be able to let him go. 

Myka dragged herself from his arms, turning to see Artie just few away with the most relieved and pitiful expression she’d ever seen. Still she hesitated just a second before hugging him with a whispered “Thank you.” Artie’s arms were warm too, but didn’t make her muscles melt with a feeling of safety. There was no chance here that she’d lose her ability to pull back. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” 

Myka still felt the edge of numbness as Pete and Artie planned what to do next with Alice and her mirror. There was something very comforting about the mixture of serious and playful in these two men and she couldn’t help a faint smile. 

She even found herself smiling and laughing before Claudia and Lena ran up. “What happened? Did it work?” 

Artie’s “Look who’s here…” was met with a round of cheers and more hugs. 

The five of them were headed out of the vault for breakfast when Pete decided to drop his bombshell. “You know, Myka said I’m a good kisser.” 

At least three voices responded for her with a sudden and shocked, “What?!” Which was good really, because the words that hit the back of her brain should not get off her lips under any circumstances. //Lucky psychopathic bitch.\\\ 

000


End file.
